


Everything I Need and More

by HermioneGirl96



Series: Asexual Headcanons [5]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Asexual Character, Asexual Eric Bittle, Asexuality, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 07:19:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19825246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneGirl96/pseuds/HermioneGirl96
Summary: Five times Jack tries to get in Bitty’s pants, and one time he’s more than content to just make out. Alternatively, Bitty is asexual but doesn’t know it, and Jack is (almost disastrously) slow on the uptake, but things work out in the end.





	Everything I Need and More

**Author's Note:**

> TW: This fic includes a scene where non-consensual sex is only narrowly avoided. This comes about because of poor communication and bad assumptions more than any bad intentions, but it still may be triggering to some people. Also, this fic includes a lot of discussion about what consent is and isn't, because Bitty has not had good sex ed. Please proceed with caution.
> 
> On an unrelated note, the title is from "Halo" by Beyonce.

1.

The first time Jack tries to get in Bitty’s pants, he acknowledges in retrospect that it was too soon. It’s during the fireworks on the Fourth of July, and he and Bitty are alone, but that doesn’t negate the fact that they’ve only been a couple for about six weeks. They’re making out in the back of the truck, barely watching the fireworks at all, and Jack lets his hand wander lower. He stops when he feels Bitty freeze, and then he reaches back up to cradle the back of Bitty’s skull in one hand and trace lazy designs on his back and shoulders with the other. Bitty resumes kissing Jack, and they don’t talk about what almost happened. 

2.

The second time Jack tries to get in Bitty’s pants, it’s shortly after Bitty moves back into the Haus for his junior year. Jack’s visiting everyone, but mostly Bitty, and the two of them sneak off to Bitty’s room late in the evening for a makeout session. At one point, Jack lets his hands wander down a bit, only for Bitty to pull back from the kiss and whisper authoritatively, “Not in the Haus!” So Jack returns his hands to Bitty’s shoulders and they continue making out.

3.

Bitty doesn’t get the chance to visit Jack in Providence very often, so the next time they have any real privacy outside the Haus is when Bitty visits Jack over fall break. Jack doesn’t get much of a chance to try to get in Bitty’s pants then, because Bitty won’t even indulge in kissing. “I think I’m coming down with something,” he announces as soon as he arrives at Jack’s apartment. “And I refuse to get you sick, Mr. Zimmermann.” He spends the entire long weekend enforcing a personal bubble Jack is not allowed to violate, and he washes his hands about every five seconds while cooking. Bitty only seems a bit sniffly to Jack, and Jack would gladly risk a cold in exchange for the chance to touch his boyfriend, but Bitty meets Jack’s “Please” with a firm “ _No_ ,” so instead they sightsee and watch movies on Netflix and chirp one another, and Bitty sleeps in the guest room. It’s nice, because it’s Bitty, but it reminds Jack of the days before they were dating, when he thought Bitty would never like him, and a part of him hates the entire experience. 

4.

By the time Bitty visits right after finals, Jack is beyond eager for sex. He hasn’t slept with anyone in over a year, and he and Bitty have been a couple for nearly seven months. Of course he masturbates regularly, but that doesn’t compare to actually having good sex with another person, and he can’t help the regular sexual fantasies he’s having about Bitty. So when Bitty arrives at the train station, Jack leads him back to his car and opens the back door rather than the front one. Bitty looks at Jack with wide eyes and whispers, “Not in public!” so Jack slams the door and gets into the driver’s seat.

5.

Twenty minutes later, as soon as they arrive at Jack’s apartment, Jack kisses Bitty right up against the inside of the front door. Bitty kisses him back for a while before pushing him gently away and asking for a chance to shower and cook dinner. 

After dinner, Jack says, “Let’s take this back to my room, shall we?” 

Bitty follows Jack back to the bedroom and climbs on top of him on the bed, straddling him. The two make out enthusiastically for several minutes, grasping at each other’s hair and getting reacquainted with one another’s mouths after a few weeks apart. Eventually, Jack succeeds in removing Bitty’s shirt, and then he flips them over, and Bitty pulls Jack’s shirt off too. After a couple more minutes of making out, Jack pulls away from Bitty’s mouth and begins kissing down his neck, across his collarbone, and down his chest. When Jack gets midway down Bitty’s stomach, the hand that’s in Jack’s hair stills and then grabs hard.

“Jack, stop,” says Bitty, an edge in his voice.

Jack looks up. “What?” 

“I’m too tired tonight, okay?” says Bitty, voice suddenly much gentler than it was just a moment ago. 

“You know I can tell that’s an excuse, right?” says Jack. “You’ve been avoiding sex for ages and I’ve never gotten the real reason why. I thought maybe you wanted to take it slow, but it’s been seven months! Are you worried about STDs? Because I’ve been tested since the last time I had sex, and I don’t have anything, and we can use condoms—they’re in the bedside table—but I feel like you’re hiding something from me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Bitty whispers. Louder, he says, “I’m yours, Jack. You can do whatever you want with me. I’m sorry I stopped you.” 

That pulls Jack up short. He replays what he said in his head, realizes how it sounded, and runs a hand across his face. Shitty is going to kill him if he ever finds out about this, and honestly Jack probably deserves it. He moves back toward the top of the bed so he can lie next to Bitty, but he makes no move to touch him. He says, “Bitty, please never say that again. To me or to anyone else you may or may not ever have a relationship with in the future.” 

Bitty’s eyes are wide. “What was—Jack—are you breaking up with me?” 

Jack resists the urge to pull Bitty into his arms. He can’t touch him now, not after he’s nearly pushed him into having sex he didn’t want. He can’t do anything physical at all until he knows what Bitty wants. Instead, he says, “Oh my God, Bits, no. I just—fuck—the burden of consent is on the person in the relationship who wants more of the physical stuff, obviously—so, in our case, me—but I also want you to advocate for yourself, okay? If someone takes advantage of you, that’s on them, of course, but you have a better chance of staying safe and having your boundaries respected if you communicate your boundaries with words, rather than relying on them to notice when you freeze up, and especially rather than saying someone can do whatever they want with you.” He takes a deep breath and asks, “Do you feel safe enough with me to tell me your boundaries?” 

Bitty nods. 

“Because I have been a massive fuckwad tonight,” Jack continues, “and I’m really, really sorry, but I understand that apologies can only do so much, and if you need to leave—or if you want _me_ to leave—I totally understand.”

Bitty grasps at Jack’s hand and meets Jack’s eyes. “Please stay.” Then he looks down and says, “I mean, if you want.” 

“Bitty, of _course_ ,” says Jack. 

Bitty looks back up at Jack and says, “But why should I get what I want if you’re not getting what you want?” 

“Did Shitty not give your class the consent speech?” Jack asks. 

Bitty looks confused. “Of course he did. But I thought consent was about, like, not raping women.” 

Jack shakes his head. “Consent is for everyone, and it’s about more than just sex. I’m pretty sure Shitty usually mentions that.” 

“He probably did,” Bitty murmurs, “and I was just too Southern to process it.” 

“Hey,” says Jack. “None of this is your fault in any way whatsoever.” 

“But if I’d just kept quiet and let you do what you wanted to do—” 

“Then you would have been on the receiving end of nonconsensual sex,” Jack interrupts. “Which is not something I ever, ever want for you.” 

“But you want sex,” Bitty points out.

Jack sighs. “Yeah, I do. But I want genuinely consensual sex, and I want you to stay safe a hell of a lot more than I want anything for myself.” 

Bitty frowns. “But you said we’d use condoms . . .” 

Jack shakes his head. “Not that kind of safe. I mean, yes, that kind of safe, if we do go the sex route, but what I meant was that I want you to not be sexually assaulted.” 

“But would it _really_ be sexual assault? I mean, you’re my boyfriend, and it’s not like you’re being violent or anything.” 

Jack reminds himself that not everyone gets lucky enough to have the kind of sex ed—both in school and at home—that he had. “Yes, Bitty, it would absolutely be sexual assault. Date rape is a real thing, and it doesn’t matter that I’m not physically forcing you to do anything; if I’m coercing you, if I’m doing things I can tell you don’t want, if I’m pushing you—all of that counts, and all of it is bad.” 

“Okay,” says Bitty, though he sounds skeptical. “But you never answered my question. Why should I get what I want if you’re not getting what you want?” 

“Because consent means something should only happen if _everyone_ involved wants it,” Jack explains. “If I weren’t okay with holding your hand right now, I wouldn’t do it. But I want to touch you in any way that makes you feel safe, and only in ways that make you feel safe. That means you can define what we do right now. I’ll tell you if you come close to any of my boundaries, but I really don’t picture that happening.” 

“Does that mean you’d hold me?” Bitty asks. 

“Of course, bud,” says Jack. “If that’s what you want.” 

Bitty nods and scoots toward Jack, so Jack puts an arm around Bitty. That’s when he feels Bitty shaking, just barely. Fucking hell, still? A wave of shame washes over Jack as he thinks about just how badly he fucked up tonight. 

“Can we talk about your boundaries?” Jack asks once Bitty seems to have gotten comfortable. 

Bitty’s quiet for a while, and then he says, “Yeah.” 

“Okay, can you tell me if there’s anything we’ve done that you _have_ liked?” Jack asks. He’s scared that the answer will be _nothing_ , but he needs to know. 

“Kissing,” says Bitty quietly. “I like kissing you so much, Jack.” 

“With tongue? Without tongue? Both?” Jack asks. 

“Both,” says Bitty. “Is that okay?” His voice is so small.

“Bits, of _course_ it’s okay,” says Jack. “I like kissing you, too.” Then he says, “Tonight I tried kissing you on places other than the mouth. How was that?” 

“I got scared,” Bitty whispers. 

“Shit,” Jack hisses before he can stop himself. 

“I’m sorry!” says Bitty. 

“No, Bits, don’t apologize,” says Jack. “It’s my fault, not yours. I should have noticed you weren’t into it before you had to tell me to stop.” He’s quiet for a moment and then says, “Have you liked anything other than kissing on the mouth?” 

“Um,” says Bitty. “Hand-holding? Cuddling? Backrubs?”

“Are you sure about those?” 

“Yeah,” says Bitty. “Yeah. Definitely.” 

Jack relaxes a tiny bit. He hasn’t been _constantly_ traumatizing Bitty. That’s mildly comforting. Maybe he doesn’t _quite_ deserve for Shitty to kill him. “Can you give me a sense of where it is and isn’t okay to put my hands?” 

“Well, I think my hands and arms are okay. And my back. And my neck. And my hair and my face. And I kind of like it when you put your hand on my knee—but like, I don’t think I want your hand _too_ far up my thigh, or down my stomach, because that makes me worry about where they’re headed.” 

“So it seems pretty clear that you don’t want any kind of sex,” Jack says. “Do you know what that’s about? Is it—” he knows it’s a ridiculous question, given what Bitty just said about kissing, but he feels the need to ask “—is it about me?”

“Oh my goodness, Jack, no,” says Bitty immediately. “I’m so sorry I made you think that.” 

“No need to apologize,” says Jack. “Seriously, you have done nothing whatsoever wrong tonight. So, um, if you don’t mind me asking, have you ever wanted to have sex with anyone?” 

Bitty shakes his head. “No.” 

“Did something . . . happen? To make you scared of sex?” Fear creeps up from Jack’s stomach to his chest to his throat as Bitty doesn’t answer. 

“Besides the homophobic bullying?” Bitty asks finally. 

Oh. Right. “Well, that,” says Jack. “But anything else? Did anyone . . . hurt you? Sexually?” 

Bitty shakes his head quickly. “No. You’re the only person who’s ever even kissed me.” 

Jack nods and lets out a breath. “And I haven’t done a very good job of taking care of you or respecting your boundaries, but you’ve had concerns about sex for longer than we’ve been together, so I’m probably not the reason you have those concerns. Got it.” 

Bitty nuzzles closer to Jack. “Of course you’ve done a good job of taking care of me. You _drove to Samwell_ just because I was feeling a little down about not being out to the team, and you let us come out to Shitty and the Haus.” 

Jack shakes his head, his chin grazing Bitty’s hair. “No, Bits, I haven’t done a good job of taking care of you. I’ve freaked you out about intimacy. More than once. That wouldn’t have happened if I’d communicated better.”

Bitty pulls back a little and looks up at Jack. “I don’t want you feeling bad. I should have communicated, too.” 

Jack shakes his head. “I have more experience, and I actually got sex ed when I was younger. Saying the right stuff should have been on me.” He lets himself stroke Bitty’s hair and says, “Do you think you might be asexual?” 

Bitty frowns. “Jack. I’m gay. _Obviously._ ” 

Jack takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to invalidate that. It’s a label you’ve had to fight for, and how you label yourself should always be your choice. But I’m wondering if there’s a split between romantic and sexual attraction for you. Like, you’re definitely romantically interested in guys—in _me_ —but do you think it’s possible that you don’t experience _sexual_ attraction?”

Bitty’s frown deepens. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann, are you trying to tell me that sexual attraction is _real_?”

“Um,” says Jack, because he hadn’t been expecting that at all, “yes? It’s very real. I genuinely want to have sex with you. I genuinely wanted to have sex with Camilla a couple years ago. I genuinely wanted to have sex with Kent—” 

“Okay, okay, I get it,” says Bitty. He blinks a few times. “Wow. That’s . . . really weird to think about.” 

“What did you think _before_?” 

“I thought everybody just pretended to want sex because everybody else was pretending to want sex.” 

Jack tries to keep himself from laughing, and it mostly works. When he can tell he won’t chuckle if he opens his mouth, he says, “Nope, a lot of us are definitely not pretending.” 

“Weird,” Bitty marvels. 

“If you feel comfortable,” Jack says, “you could talk to Lardo about this.” 

“About what?” Bitty asks, looking suspicious. 

“Being asexual,” Jack explains. “Lardo’s asexual and she’s pretty vocal about it.” 

“I thought she liked Shitty,” Bitty says slowly. 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure she does,” says Jack. “She describes herself as asexual panromantic. And I’m guessing you might be asexual homoromantic. Do those words make sense?” 

“Maybe?” says Bitty. “What does ‘panromantic’ mean?”

“It means she can experience romantic attraction to people of any gender identity—gender isn’t a factor in attraction for her.” 

“How is that different from bi?” Bitty asks. 

“Well, personally, being attracted to a man feels different from being attracted to a woman. Gender is still a factor, even though it doesn’t rule anyone out,” Jack says. 

“Do you have a preference?” Bitty asks. 

“Yeah. You,” says Jack. 

Bitty ducks his head, nuzzling into Jack’s shoulder. 

“Can I kiss the top of your head?” Jack asks. 

“Yeah,” says Bitty into Jack’s chest. 

Jack kisses Bitty’s hair and then says, “I think I should ask before I do anything for a while, until I have a better sense of what your boundaries really are. Do you feel safe enough with me to tell me ‘no’ when I ask to do something you don’t want?”

“Jack, of course,” says Bitty. 

Jack pulls back a little and looks Bitty in the eye. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” says Bitty. 

“And you know that I don’t want anything unless you want it, and that I won’t ever get mad at you for saying no?” 

Bitty’s quiet for a moment, and then he asks, “But what about tonight?” 

Jack sighs. “Tonight I was a fuckwad. I promise not to be a fuckwad again, and if I break that promise I want you to break up with me, okay?” 

“Jack, no,” says Bitty. 

Jack stares hard at Bitty. “Bitty, your safety _has_ to matter more than our relationship.” Then a cold thought hits him. “Are you afraid I would hurt you if you tried to break up with me?”

“No!” Bitty insists. “I just—I want to be with you so badly . . .” 

Jack scrubs a hand across his face. He thought he could trust himself, but then tonight happened, and now he’s not so sure, plus he clearly can’t rely on Bitty to hold him accountable—not that Bitty should have to do anything of the sort, of course. He says, “If I’m a fuckwad again, do you think you could leave the room and call Shitty?”

Bitty nods tentatively. 

“Okay,” says Jack. “I promise not to let it come to that, anyway.” Then he says, “What do you want right now?”

“Can we put our shirts back on?” Bitty asks quietly. 

Guilt washes over Jack. He sits up in bed, leans over, and retrieves his and Bitty’s shirts. Once he’s handed Bitty the correct shirt, he says, “How long have you wanted to put this back on?”

Bitty squirms and doesn’t look at Jack. 

“Bits. Please. How long?”

“Since they came off?” Bitty whispers. 

Jack manages to avoid swearing audibly. Instead, he says, “I’m so sorry, Bits.” 

“It’s not—I mean, I like _seeing_ you shirtless, and I don’t mind you seeing _me_ shirtless either, but I just—it feels different while we’re in bed. While we’re in _contact._ You know?” 

“Yeah,” says Jack. “That makes sense.” 

Bitty fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “You’ve said all this stuff about what I want, and when I should leave, but what about you? What if this isn’t good enough for you? And aren’t relationships about compromise?” 

“Consent is more important than compromise,” says Jack. “And Bitty. I want you, whatever you’re genuinely willing to give me, and _only_ what you’re genuinely willing to give me. I promise.” 

"Are you sure?"

"Bits, you're everything I need and more, whether or not we're having sex."

Bitty cracks up, and Jack is bewildered to find him shaking with laughter now instead of fear, but this feels so much better. "Did you just inadvertently quote Beyonce?" Bitty giggles.

"Uh . . ."

"'You're everything I need and more' is a line from 'Halo,' Jack, honestly." Bitty rolls his eyes. "I'd have thought you'd at least know _that_ song by now."

"You know I have no memory for song lyrics," says Jack. "But you believe me that we don't need to have sex?"

Bitty takes a deep breath. "Yeah, I do. Thank you." 

"Hey, no need to thank me. I'm just going for basic human decency, and Shitty would kill me if I did any less." 

Bitty frowns. “But Shitty loves you.” 

“Yeah,” Jack agrees, “but he also loves you, and his values mean more to him than anything. Don’t think he didn’t give me a shovel speech after we told him about us.” 

Bitty’s eyes get huge. “He gave _you_ a _shovel speech_?”

“Yeah, Bits,” says Jack. “He knows I have more experience than you, obviously. Everyone wants to protect you.” He keeps the _And I’ve failed_ inside his head because he doesn’t want Bitty to try to cheer him up right now.

Bitty tears up a little at that. “I know everyone says they’ve got my back, but I didn’t—I mean, I never—I guess I didn’t realize that any of our friends could ever care about me as much as they care about you.” 

Jack tears up, too. How can this wonder of a human being not realize how special and _loved_ he is? “Bitty, can I kiss you?” 

“Um . . . ,” says Bitty, looking down.

“Okay, that’s a no.”

Bitty looks up at Jack. “I didn’t _say_ ‘no.’” 

“Anything other than a ‘yes’ is a no. I’m supposed to know that,” Jack says.

“Oh,” says Bitty. 

Jack lifts a hand and then says, “Can I touch your hair?” 

“Yeah,” says Bitty. 

Jack smooths Bitty’s hair and says, “What would you like to do now?”

“Can we just go to sleep?” Bitty asks. “I mean, I know it’s early, but I really am tired.”

“Sure, bud,” says Jack. “Do you want to go to the guest bedroom, or . . . ?”

“Can I stay here?” Bitty asks. 

“Of course,” says Jack. “Contact? No contact? I can’t promise not to spoon you while I’m asleep.” 

“Contact is good,” says Bitty. “Just hold me.” 

“That, I can definitely do,” says Jack. 

Bitty falls asleep quickly—at least, Jack is pretty sure he does, from the way his breathing evens out—and Jack is left with a face full of Bitty’s hair and a mind buzzing with regrets. He focuses on his own breathing to stave off a panic attack, but he can’t help thinking just how close he came to ruining everything tonight. Not just his relationship with Bitty, either, as though that weren’t bad enough, but also what’s left of Bitty’s innocence. He could have seriously traumatized Bitty, and all because he was selfish and horny and making bad assumptions rather than asking questions. He resolves to tell Shitty about how badly he fucked up. At this point, getting yelled at would probably make him feel better. But first, he has to get some sleep tonight. 

+1

By the time Jack and Bitty get back from the RISD Museum, Jack is exhausted. He barely slept last night, which is most of the reason, but traipsing all over Providence with Bitty has hardly helped matters. And then there’s the fact that he called Shitty while Bitty was making breakfast, and he let himself panic and cry on the phone since Bitty wasn’t in the room, and both the crying and the panic attack were draining. Shitty took the news about last night with surprising equanimity, all things considered. “You fucked up, brah,” he said, several times, but he talked Jack through his panic attack and then, when Jack could breathe again, said, “Look. Yeah, you fucked up, and you should have talked more, especially given the way he froze up the first couple times you tried to touch his junk, and you definitely shouldn’t have verbally pressured him. But you did the right thing as soon as you figured out what was going on, and you’re going to do better in the future. I’m not going to kill you and you don’t deserve to die.” 

Jack’s been trying to replay that reassurance in his mind all day, and Bitty’s smiles (plus Bitty’s hand on his knee during lunch) have helped with that. Now they’re home, and Bitty says, “What would you like to do now?” 

“Food would be good,” says Jack. “We can order takeout if you don’t want to cook, or we can cook together, or I can set you loose in the kitchen. Whatever you prefer.” 

Bitty frowns at him. “Jack. You can’t have me make all the decisions. I already picked what we were going to do in bed last night, and where we were going to spend the morning, and where we ate lunch, and where we spent the afternoon. I may not know much about this consent thing, but I’m pretty sure that’s not how a healthy relationship is supposed to work.” 

Jack takes a deep breath, and then another, using the time to get his thoughts in order. “Bits. Have you noticed me giving you options?”

“Huh?” 

“This morning, I suggested a few different historic houses to visit, because I was excited to visit any of them and I wanted you to have a choice. For lunch, I listed restaurants I’ve enjoyed before; I didn’t give you any options that I wouldn’t like. For the afternoon, I gave you a bunch of museums as options. There are things to do in Providence other than historic sites and museums; those are just the things I’m most interested in. I honestly had way more say in this day than you did, because I’ve had more time and mental energy to plan and I didn’t want to make you do that part, but I also wanted you to have some degree of choice in how the day went. I’m pretty sure this is a viable way for consent to work—one person gives a list of things they’re okay with, and the other person gets to pick whichever one they like best or veto the whole list. You haven’t been making all the decisions, not really. Each time we’ve needed to make a decision, I’ve told you several things I’d like, and you’ve picked one.”

“Oh,” says Bitty. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of it like that.” 

“Do you feel better about it now?” Jack asks. 

“Yeah,” says Bitty. 

“So tonight, I’m way too tired to go to a restaurant, but I’m fine with takeout, cooking together, or just sitting around while you cook, so those are the options I gave you.”

“Okay,” says Bitty. “Well, if you’re that tired, Mr. Zimmermann, I’d consider it an honor to cook for you.” 

“I can help, Bits, seriously,” says Jack. “I know how to keep pushing through fatigue. You know I can do that.” 

“You just sit yourself down, sweetpea,” says Bitty authoritatively.

“Bits—” 

Bitty walks Jack into the living room from where they’ve been standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Let me take care of you,” says Bitty. They wind up both sitting on the sofa, and then Bitty says, “Actually, can I kiss you?” 

Jack nods and then says, “Only if you want, though.” 

“I want,” Bitty whispers, already reaching up toward Jack. 

The kisses start gentle and tentative, but soon they grow more heated. Jack is melting against Bitty and moving his left hand up and down Bitty’s back while his right hand cradles Bitty’s skull, and he can’t help but moan a little when Bitty’s nails graze his scalp. 

Bitty pulls back. “Do you want . . . more?”

“Only if you do,” Jack says. “Do you?”

Bitty looks down. “Not really, no.”

“Okay, then,” says Jack. “More kissing, or should I let you get to the kitchen?”

“More kissing, if that’s okay?” Bitty says. 

Jack grins. “More kissing it is.”


End file.
